Waiting For Atlantis
by Stealth Dragon
Summary: Crash landing, iceplanet, wraith, and injuries. Yep, just another day in Pegasus for our team.


Waiting for Atlantis

by

Stealth Dragon

Rating: T for injuries

Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate Atlantis and I'm getting tired of having to say that over and over and over...

Summary: Shot down, the team is stranded on an ice planet... a wraith-infested ice-planet. And did I happen to mention that they're injured? Secret Santa story for Wildcat88, also known as Frisco, who wanted an injured team getting more injured all while running from the wraith.

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There was noise first, then sensation – pain and cold working as one to make it impossible to return to that numb oblivion. Solid metal pressing into Teyla's aching skull and chest provoked her to lift her head into a biting wind. She found it odd that there should be a wind, as she recalled having been in a jumper. Forcing sticky eyes open, she found herself still in that jumper. The glitter of glass like ice-crystals scattered across the dark console explained everything. She forced her throbbing head to turn, and her eyes widened.

The window, the impenetrable view screen of the puddle jumper, was shattered. The hole was the size of her fist, like an enlarged view of a puncture wound, a bullet hole, maybe. For some reason, she found it far more grotesque than shocking, she could not explain why. Beyond the window was a field of white halting before a solid wall of cold blue, too high to see the top. The wind spat snow against the exposed skin of her face and hands, like being stung by crystal insects.

Teyla remembered the 'jumper slipping through the gate out into space. The whine of a dart. Explosions. John's voice screaming firm but gutteral that they were going down.

A low moan pulled her gaze away from their surroundings to the others in the forward compartment. Rodney was coming around, curling into himself with his arm held to his chest and a twisted look of agony on his face that made him seem aged. In the seat beside him, Ronon's blood-slicked head lolled back and forth. Teyla did not like the glassy look of his eyes when they opened, the way they would not focus and the bruises starting to form around them. He must have hit his head more than once, and on more than one solid surface: the chair in front, the back of the seat, the wall. She was not sure why it mattered, only that her brain refused to cease being curious about it.

Teyla took a breath with the intent to speak and winced when her chest cramped. Throbbing in time with her pounding head was her wrist lying, twitching and swollen like a dead thing, on the console. She tried for a more steady breath, one that made her chest twinge, and again prepared to speak.

Then she turned her head to see Sheppard sprawled across the console, unmoving. Teyla's chest tightened a second time that had nothing to do with the ache. She ignored the increase of discomfort when she leaned sideways, stretching to grip the shoulder of John's vest.

"Colonel Sheppard. John. John!" But it was when she moved her hand from the vest to his neck in search of a pulse that he finally stirred. A small shifting of his hands, then a twitch of his fingers that stiffened and curled. Teyla watched as his back, expanding on an inhale, came to an abrupt, shuddery halt. It deflated on a high, helpless whimper Teyla had never heard from him before.

"Damn it!" John cursed softly. It was a struggle for him push himself upright, full of pained grunts and hisses. He managed to move away from the console but remained curled in on himself with one bloody arm wrapped around his chest. Blood-shot eyes flicked from the broken window, to Teyla, then to the others of their team when he inched the seat around.

"Everyone alive?" he asked hoarsely.

"Alive enough!" Rodney snapped, pale with agony. Fear made him impatient, but pain and fear made him desperate. He sucked in a breath as stuttering as his voice when he was terrified, and moaned. "Oh, gosh, it hurts! It freakin' hurts. I think... I think I broke my damn arm."

"Ronon?" Sheppard asked.

Ronon's head continued to loll, his glazed eyes with it. "Huh?"

"You okay, there, big guy?"

"What?"

"I'd take that as a no!" Rodney barked.

When John inched around to look at Teyla, she gave him a small nod. "I believe I may have bruised my chest and injured my wrist." She knew it was a bruise. She had had enough broken, cracked, and bruised ribs in her life to know the difference.

Teyla looked John up and down with a raised eyebrow. He would know her expression, the one that said without words not to dare hold anything back. Sheppard was a smart man who knew better than to disregard his own well being. However, depending on the situation and the extent to which he could handle an injury, some aspects he would keep to himself so as not to waste time having another fuss over him. He was also one who did not like to create what he thought to be needless worry.

He gave her a wincing smile flashing blood-stained teeth. "Don't think I got off so easy."

Then, like one waking in a strange place, Sheppard stiffened and whipped back around to the console, pressing buttons and flipping switches. Nothing happened, and Teyla finally realized that the console no longer glowed.

"Does anything work?" she asked.

John shook his head. "Doesn't look like it. I can't even bring up the HUD." He glanced over his shoulder as he flipped another switch. "Doors aren't working either. I think it's safe to assume that dart managed to thoroughly kick our ass before I shot it." His eyes hardened in that familiar way when he was speculating over the actions of the enemy, focusing on strategy and intent. As he pondered, Teyla slid gingerly from her seat, scooting on her knees over to Rodney rather than risk inevitable dizziness on standing up.

It took quiet, gentle coaxing to get Rodney to let her look at his arm. She used the knife in her belt to cut the sleeve and expose a vicious patch of black and blue but, thankfully, no bulge over the break. As Sheppard might put it, she "tuned" out Rodney's mantra of "Careful, careful, careful, ow!" as she softly palpitated the skin.

"Why the hell was there only one dart?" John said out loud.

"Scout, maybe," Rodney said. "Who cares?" He hissed when Teyla proceeded to wrap his arm with the field dressing from her vest, using the second dressing to form a sling.

"I care," John snapped. "So far, lone dart has equaled scout ship, and scout ship equaled hive ship not too far behind. And I didn't exactly have a lot of time to scan the area for any hive ships." Shaking his head, he sighed, "I don't like this." Then reached into his vest, pulling out the LSD.

"And there's no possible way it could have just been lost," Rodney sneered. "Or maybe the last from a destroyed hive. Seriously, why can't we ever get breaks like that? Why does there always have to be something extra sinister behind the presence of one piddly, lonely little wraith dart?"

A familiar tug on Teyla's mind halted her ministrations, small and inconsequential except that it was growing more persistent.

"Because there always is something sinister behind the presence of a lone wraith dart," she barely heard John say. "Look!"

Teyla turned toward the LSD facing their way, an LSD showing four, five,... _seven_ dots moving toward the cluster of four dots. Teyla felt McKay tense up beside her, and her body mimicked.

"Oh no," Rodney breathed.

John nodded, facial muscles taut and eyes both steely and sparking with an almost feral nervousness. He looked at Teyla, locking his gaze onto hers. When she nodded in confirmation, he huffed a terse breath "And I had a feeling that dart was trying to herd us somewhere. Teyla," he stuffed the LSD back into his pocket, "grab the med kit and whatever supplies you can. Rodney, help her."

Teyla didn't hesitate in pushing herself to her feet, staggering in a moment of dizziness, then surging into the bay to start tearing through the storage compartments.

"What, why?" Rodney stammered behind her. "What are we doing?"

"Getting the hell out of here, McKay."

Teyla chanced a brief glance to see Sheppard pull the blaster from the dazed Satedan's holster, aim, and fire bolt after bolt at the weakened window.

"Whoa, hey!" Rodney cried. "What do you mean getting out of here? We're safe here. This ship is impenetrable, we have food, warmth, drones -"

"And no power," John snapped. "Which means the highly likely possibility of the doors being pride open. We're sitting ducks, here, McKay."

Teyla stuffed supplies into a pack one-handed until it bulged, then slung it over her shoulder. McKay barely had a second pack full, but it would have to do. John had melted a good-sized hole in the window big enough for even Ronon to slip through.

With the window done, John shoved the weapon back into its holster, freeing up his hands to get Ronon to his feet. "Both of you," he said, pulling the Satedan's long arm across his shoulders, "get outside. Start heading toward that cliff wall. I saw an opening just across from us, looks like a big gash in the rock. You can't miss it."

Teyla had not recalled seeing any opening. Then again, neither had she looked for one. Rodney climbed through the hole first, tossing the less-full pack ahead of him and then slipping awkwardly through like a small child trying to climb down from a large tree. Teyla watched him, her gaze pulled away by Sheppard's strained grunts and groans. He had Ronon on his feet, the bigger man's weight pushing down on John whose face was already slick with sweat and flushed from exertion and pain. Teyla hesitated long enough to ensure Rodney got out safe before turning to help.

"Go, first," Sheppard panted. "Help him get out."

Teyla nodded and crawled over the console to slip with more ease through the hole. She dropped out on the other side into powdery snow that came up to her ankle. Ronon followed after, loose-limbed and uncoordinated. It took both Teyla and Rodney to keep Ronon from dropping, and still he ended up in a heap on the ground. Sheppard slipped out as they pulled Ronon to his feet.

"All right," John said, one hand clutching his P-90 and his other arm hugging his chest. "Let's move out before company arrives." He kicked through the snow as he moved to take the lead, his body partially curled. Teyla and Rodney kept their good arms employed in making sure Ronon followed in a straight line wihout dropping.

"For the record," Rodney growled, "I would just like to point out how insane this is. Personally, I would think the 'jumper a safe enough place to hold up. They try to pry the doors open, you shoot them. What's so difficult about that? And it's the first place Atlantis is going to look when they send a rescue team. All that taking a walk through the tundra is going to do is decrease the chances of them finding us... _alive_. So -"

"McKay!" Sheppard cut in. "This was the last planet we were supposed to check out, which means we have another hour before check-in. We had a good ten minutes, more or less and I'm leaning toward less, before those wraith were on us. The power was out, we couldn't close the doors, the window was compromised, and for all we knew they would have been just as happy to blow us up as to feed on us. I'm not taking chances, Rodney. That dart crashed us, here, on _purpose_."

"Oh, yes, it was all a part of their master plan. Wait at every space-gate with an ambush on the planet just in case any Atlantis ships decide to pop in. Waste numbers and ammo all in the name of 'just in case'."

John shot a scowl at Rodney over his shoulder. "It's strategic placement. They probably do it all the time at every space-gate they come through. Shoot down anyone who happens by that isn't the hive, or shoot down anyone trying to leave. Bonus points if you can keep them alive for interrogation or dinner. The fact that it was a "lantean ship" was probably extra bonus points. Come on, McKay. I think we've been shafted by the wraith enough times for even you to admit they're not stupid. That dart didn't care who the target was, it was just waiting for a target."

McKay did not respond. His silence and the stubborn jut of his jaw might as well be an admittance to John having a point. It wouldn't last long should he manage to scrounge up a counter point, and Teyla was not looking forward to it. He had once said that he reacted to certain doom in a certain way, and Elizabeth had once said that complaining was cathartic for him when he was in discomfort.

Which was like fire to wood when Sheppard was in his own state of discomfort. Where as Rodney found solace in words and what-might-bes, Sheppard found solace in silent action and the now.

A razor wind chafed the exposed skin of their face and hands with ice and snow. It pushed against them, cut at them, crept through the gaps in their jackets to soak through their clothes. The cuffs of Teyla's pants were already starting to bleed water into her socks, numbing her ankles. Their legs gouged deep runnels into the snow as they trudged ever closer the the split in the rock; a blemish on the wall like an unhealed scar.

Ronon stumbled more than once, the fourth time nearly bringing Teyla and Rodney down with him. Each time, John would slow, watching over his shoulder until everyone had found their footing. He wanted to take over for one of them, Teyla could see it in his eyes. On the fifth stumble, he turned to make his way toward them when Teyla shook her head. His longer legs were clearing a path for them, and Teyla did not know if supporting another man's weight would do further damage to broken ribs. She did not want to take that chance, even if John did.

Though the distance was nothing great, the wind and snow and dragging a half-conscious giant made the trek feel like an eternity. As soon as John reached it, he doubled back to take up their six while Teyla and Rodney dragged Ronon into the narrow canyon of ice and rock where the snow was more shallow.

Blue-white energy crackled over Teyla's shoulder to explode in a shower of sparks and rock. John's shout to run was swallowed by the thunder of his P-90.

Teyla did not hesitate and practically dragged both Ronon and Rodney when she burst forward in a heavy lurch that turned into a stumbling run. There was no coherent direction, just turn after turn with her doing the leading. She did not look back, only ahead, fading out the burn of legs and lungs, narrowing her world to the harsh breathing of the two men beside her and the distant patter of a weapon. If that breathing, that weapon, fell silent, only then would she turn.

Ronon stumbled, bringing them to their knees. Teyla gritted her teeth has she pulled him up, Rodney barking curses loud enough to stab her ears.

"Fine time for that skull of yours to stop being so damn thick! On your feet you overgrown ox!"

They staggered, swayed and then they were off again just as another ball of blue-white crackled past them. Ice tried to pull their feet out from under them, while Teyla's heart beat faster than her lungs could keep up. Every inhale burned, every exhale bringing no relief, and the blood screaming in her ears drowned out all but the thunder of Sheppard's weapon.

So she almost missed his shouting her name.

"Teyla, Rodney! Over here!"

They skidded to a halt, feet slipping when they turned to see Sheppard waving them over. He was standing beside an opening in the rock wall, its small size making it too easy to overlook.

"Inside, now!" John barked before returning fire.

Rodney balked. "Are you nuts? We don't know where it leads!"

Two stunner bolts whipped inches from John's shoulder and Teyla's back. The wraith were turning the corner in an uncoordinated slide that was slowing them.

McKay's face went another shade white. "Guess we'll find out," he squeaked. With a shove that was more like a toss, they got Ronon in, and Rodney followed immediately after going head first. Teyla could hear his terrified shouting echo off into the distance.

"Go!" John shouted above the weapons exchange. "I'll be right behind you."

Teyla nodded, providing a little extra fire that brought one wraith down before dropping onto her rear and sliding in. The breath caught in her throat as her body raced through the steep ice-tunnel bruising her body with sharp turns and an uneven surface. It was exhilarating and terrifying, the speed of it buffeting her with a frigid wind that tangled her hair. When she finally recalled how to breathe, she howled, part scream of fright, part shout of manic joy.

Then she burst from the darkness to go sliding across a slick floor until colliding with a soft surface. She blinked, clearing her dry eyes, staring up at the blue-white ceiling of an ice-cave pockmarked with natural skylights. The soft thing at her shoulder groaned and stirred. Teyla turned her head just enough to see the tan leather of a coat and booted feet.

Her heart skittered. "Ronon!" She pushed herself up, ignoring the ache in her chest and newly formed bruises. Ronon was lying with limbs splayed as though he'd flopped down on the floor for a rest. His eyes were glassy, unfocused, and his head rolling back and forth, but he was awake and alive.

That left Rodney, who Teyla saw across the chamber, huddled against a pillar of ice, hugging his arm to his chest and rocking.

"Sheppard's dead! He is so friggin' dead!" he whimpered. Teyla stood, or tried to stand when dizziness shoved her back to her knees. She tried again, moving slowly, but a shout pulled her attention to the hole just as Sheppard came barreling out. He slid to the other side of the room, barely missing Teyla who winced in sympathy at the sound of his body impacting another pillar of ice. There was a grunt, more angry than pained, but still pained.

Too many injured, and she was the only one on her feet. Looking from Ronon sprawled on the floor, to Rodney rocking, to Sheppard rolling onto his hand and knees with the other hand pressed to his side, she decided to start with the nearest and less mobile. Dropping back to her knees, she patted Ronon's cheek as she called his name.

"We need to get out of here," Sheppard said, his voice strained. Teyla glanced over her shoulder to see him limping toward Rodney. "Those wraith weren't far off. They'll be here any minute." He reached down, grimacing with the effort, for Rodney's arm, only for the scientist to pull away.

"I can do it myself," he tried to snap, only to have it sound more broken than harsh. Pressing his good hand against the ice, he climbed methodically back to his feet, uttering a few pained moans. John hovered agitatedly close by until McKay was upright and staying upright. He then hurried over to Ronon and Teyla. Taking each of the Satedan's arms, they pulled him back to his feet, John making choked noises, his eyes watering.

"Let's move!" he rasped.

They limped, slipped and listed across the slick floor into a wide tunnel curving around into deeper blue. Teyla looked at Ronon, his head limp and chin resting against his chest. He had yet to acknowledge them, which could mean so many things, so many complications, especially if a second blow had occurred on exiting the tunnel. Even now, the prospect alone frightened her far more than the wraith on their heels.

The tunnel opened up into a far larger chamber, as large as those Earth places of worship called cathedrals she had seen in pictures. It echoed with their heavy breaths and frantic footfalls, and the light was weak to be almost dark blue. They raced as quickly as their unsteady footing would allow them across the open floor to where it sloped in levels like stairs.

Rodney, several steps ahead, came to a sliding stop. "What the hell!"

Waiting for them at the bottom of the short flight of "stairs" was a narrow bridge of ice only a foot wide but too many feet long. Beneath this bridge yawned a black chasm.

"Oh no," McKay whined as he stepped back. "Oh, no, no, no, no, no. No way. What is this, Indiana Jones and the Ice Temple of Doom? No way can we cross that."

Teyla and John exchanged twin looks of uncertainty. McKay was right, it was too dangerous to cross in their condition.

The grunt of approaching wraith echoed too close for comfort. Sheppard's face twisted with rueful uncertainty. "We don't have a choice."

Rodney looked at him in horror, sputtering, "Wh-wh-what? No, we do have a choice. There has to be a choice because there is no _possible_ way we can get over that."

John turned his sights back on the bridge. "Teyla, did you pack any rope?"

"Yes," she replied.

Sheppard nodded. "Good. Rodney, get it out. Teyla, help him tied it around his waist. He's going first."

McKay's face turned as white as snow. "What!"

"Trust me, Rodney. We won't let you fall. Now do it!"

It was all frantic scrambling as McKay dug the rope out of the pack for him and Teyla to wrap it around his waist, all while moving one careful step at a time down to the bridge. Sheppard managed to rouse Ronon enough with a few pats on the face – then a pinch to the skin of his neck when that didn't work – until he was standing relatively on his own. It freed Sheppard up enough to tie the other end of the rope to a thick spike of ice.

When done, he shouted, "McKay, move!"

With a frightened moan, Rodney inched his trembling way over the bridge in a shuffling slide. He was muttering to himself, Teyla could hear it, whimpering over and over again about how stupid this was, how dangerous, and that he was going to die. He looked small hunched as he was with his arm tucked protectively against his chest. Small and helpless, like a child.

Behind them, the resounding growls and grunts were even closer. Teyla could sense their hunger and frustration like recalling a distant dream or vague memory. And the closer they came, the stronger the recollection.

She swallowed back the lump of terror lodged in her throat, straightening as much as her sore body would allow, for the sake of appearance if nothing else. "It is all right, Rodney," she called. "You can do it. Just keep moving."

Rodney glanced at her, and her forced stoicism must have worked, because he managed to inch faster with only five more steps to go.

"Almost there, McKay," John added. "Just a little further."

An explosion of electricity stung their skin with ice-shards. Rodney staggered and his body wavered, back and forth like a swing with his arm pinwheeling.

Teyla's heart launched into her throat. "Rodney!"

"Damn it!" John snarled, wrapping the rope around one arm as he aimed his P-90 and fired in the general direction of the enemy. "I won't let you fall, McKay! Just hang on!"

"To what!" Rodney yelped. He began to lean farther back, arm spinning faster as he clawed at thin air. His body jolted, pitching forward, then back. Then... stilled, bent in the middle with his backside sticking out. Slowly, painfully, even when another bolt exploded and Sheppard fired in kind, he started to straighten himself.

Then, he was upright, finishing off the last few feet of distance until, finally, he was on wide and solid ground. He turned to the others with the biggest smile Teyla had ever seen splitting his face.

"I-I did it." He flinched at another crack of stunner blast. "I did it! I..." The rest was drowned out by Sheppard's weapon.

"Move!" John shouted, taking up support of Ronon's other side. Teyla took the lead with Sheppard positioned to continue their cover fire. They inched the same way Rodney had, sliding their feet in a shuffle. But with the rope to at least give them the illusion of steadiness, they moved faster as bolts ripped past them.

The wraith were at the top of the steps but unable to come down, forced to duck back from Sheppard's rapid return fire. The moment the three were on the other side, Sheppard barked the order to run. The wraith were on the move toward the bridge now that their quarry was clear. Teyla looked over her shoulder when she felt Ronon's weight increase, and watched as Sheppard fired at the rope until it snapped, then the bridge. Ice shattered in a glittering rain of chunks and powder.

John backed away, ducking more stunner blasts, moving slow even as the first wraith started to cross. It didn't get far when the bridge moaned, cracked and tilted dropping the wraith onto its side. Then, another crack like branches being split, and the bridge fell away, taking the screaming wraith with it into the abyss.

The now stranded wraith continued to fire, even when their quarry vanished around a bend.

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The cave of ice existed for only so far, when the walls of frozen water gave way to solid rock silver-black in color and sparkling with moisture. Cold turned into humid warmth that beaded their skin with dew. Rodney walked ahead of them, the most quiet Teyla had ever heard him, and it bothered her. One of many things that bothered her: Ronon's lethargy that made him stagger like a drunk, and Sheppard's shallow and labored breathing.

The only positive was that Ronon had awareness enough to be able to walk on his own, with only Teyla's hand on his arm to keep him from veering into a wall. She could hear Sheppard behind them and thought there might be more of a wheeze to his breathing. It made her recall what Dr. Beckett had once said, when he was still alive, about damaged ribs and how they could lead to lung infections.

She was pulled from her thoughts when Ronon doubled over to heave with a force that should have expelled his stomach. Sheppard sidled up beside them, wearing a mild grimace of sympathetic disgust.

"I was wondering when that was going to happen." He looked up in McKay's direction, but the physicist said nothing, just continued on. Sheppard's grimace melted into concern. "Think he's all right?"

Teyla, rubbing Ronon's back, pursed her lips. "I believe he is merely shaken. Give him a moment."

John nodded. "Yeah, probably." His hand went back to his side, fingers curling against the vest until the knuckles were white, as though wanting to grip the very bones beneath cloth and skin. Teyla had not noticed until now how pale Sheppard was.

When Ronon finished heaving, they continued on deeper into the cave. Teyla thought she felt a bit of a pull, like when going down hill, and an increase of warmth and moisture in the air. There was less illumination the deeper they went until it was only the beam of John's light cutting through the smoky darkness.

"I wonder where this goes?" he muttered.

"Obviously it goes down," came Rodney's steel-edge response. He sounded angry, even for him.

Teyla squinted at what she thought to be an increase of light further down, gray at first, then pale blue-green. Not bright, but enough to see their surroundings down to the pin-head sized crystals scattered throughout the rock. The tunnel widened to finally open into yet another massive cave of pillars and spikes of stone like teeth scattered across the floor and ceiling. Glowing lichens patching the walls were the source of the light, and bubbling pools of water and mud stinking of rotten eggs the heat.

"Hot springs," John said. "I think this as good a place as any to call a break. Don't you?"

Teyla smiled and sighed, "Yes," already moving Ronon to the nearest jut of rock to sit him against it.

Far ahead, Rodney kept going.

"McKay!" John called, clipping his weapon to his vest. "Hey McKay! Break time. Come on back, sit, take a breather -"

"No."

John blinked. "What?"

"I said no!" McKay barked over his shoulder. John hurried after him, trying for a jog only to wince from it, so settling for a fast walk.

He grabbed Rodney's shoulder when he caught up to him. "Hey, McKay, hold up. What's the problem?"

Rodney jerked his shoulder away. "I want to get out of here, that's the problem."

John tried again. "And we will. But first we're going to catch our breath and deal with whatever injuries we haven't noticed yet."

Rodney yanked himself free with a sharp roll of his shoulder. "Go right ahead. I'll meet you outside."

"Rodney..."

McKay spun around so suddenly, eyes so wide and blazing, that John stumbled back wearing a look of alarm. Rodney stalked up to him, jabbing his finger into his chest as he spoke. "I'm leaving this cave, Colonel. I don't want to be in here anymore. I don't want to stay in one spot and waste minutes the wraith could be using to find another way to get to us. And I definitely don't want to be here when the hour's over and rescue finally shows up, because I doubt very highly that they're going to be able to communicate with us this deep in some damn, forsaken mountain. And like hell I'm letting them leave us for dead."

"They won't do that..."

"I'm not taking that chance!" Rodney bellowed right in Sheppard's face. "We shouldn't have left the 'jumper. We were safe there, easy to spot there. We had supplies and weapons and could have taken the wraith out one by one. But no. It wasn't good enough. You actually thought trudging through snow when it's forty below out with only our jackets to keep us warm, sliding down an ice-tunnel that makes a roller-coaster seem like a kiddie-ride, and crossing a tooth-pick skinny bridge over an abyss_the safer way to go_!"

John tried to stretch to his full height, but couldn't, so went for a hard glare. "We weren't safe, McKay. We were sardines in a freakin' can. We couldn't close all the doors, couldn't open them, and the front window was compromised. And do you really think those wraith were the only ones after us? Do you think more wouldn't have come? We been through this before, Rodney. It was a damn scouting party. They don't report back in, then someone's going to come investigating, and once they see what's been keeping their buddies so busy, then they're going to call for back up."

"An hour, that's all we needed -"

"Which we still have, McKay. I'm sorry this was so unpleasant but we're still alive, and I don't see how that registers as a failure to you."

Rodney's cheeks and neck turned a bright shade of red. "We're in a stupid cave! They won't be able to find us in a cave!"

"Then we'll find them. Damn it, Rodney, what do you think "we don't leave out people behind" means? They're not just going to do a sweep and leave us for dead just because they couldn't pick up a signal. They're going to look for us long as they can, long enough for us to get out of here so we can be tracked. And taking a five minute break isn't going to screw that up. So shut up, sit down, and take a damn breather!"

With that said, Sheppard turned and strode swiftly away before McKay had a chance to say anything, leaving the other man to mutter and curse under his breath as he sought a place to sit away from the others.

Teyla's heart fluttered fast and heavy as though wanting to flee from her chest. She hated this, the wound anger and words it provoked. Hated it because it frightened her how easy and how quickly it could come, pressing like a weight, heavy as rock yet fragile as glass for one misspoken word to shatter beyond repair.

It made her feel out of place, like an interloper, making her too nervous to speak in fear that it would only prolong the argument. She looked up at John, saying nothing for that reason.

He looked even paler, though that could have been a trick of the light, and she did not think the sweat slicking his face was from the humidity of the cave. As he moved into a crouch beside Ronon, his motions were stiff, eliciting a small grunt and tightening features. And he looked so tired, as though the very air were pushing him down.

But when he met her gaze, he smiled, tremulous smile though it was. "How is he?"

Teyla looked at Ronon as she moved knots of hair away from his face. His eyes were closed, his breathing even, and a ribbon of dried blood stretched from his forehead to his chin. "Dr. Beckett once said that it's not good for someone with a concussion to sleep."

John frowned. "Dr. Beckett isn't here." It was not meant to be a joke, nor a reprimand, not according to the softened look in his eyes that said without speaking it how he wished he were here. Carson or Keller, but more likely Carson since he had been the better known.

"They are allowed to sleep," he said, "but we'll need to wake him every two hours. Not a problem since this is supposed to be a five minute break."

Teyla smiled. "Then let us make the best of it." She scooted around Ronon to be within reach of John. "I never had the chance to check your injuries. How are they?"

John's tongue flicked over his lips. "They, uh..." he laughed breathily, "they hurt like a bitch."

Teyla tucked her bottom lip beneath her teeth. John admitted to pain when there was pain to admit to; although, usually, not with so much intensity. She realized, with a start, that not all the moisture sliding down his face was sweat. She started removing the layers: vest, jacket, then unbuttoning his top shirt to get to his T-shirt. John attempted to help by maneuvering each article off his shoulders. His hands shook as he shoved the sleeves of the jacket and shirt down to his elbows.

Teyla lifted the T-shirt, exposing dark bruises against pale skin spread across his chest down into his flanks, too dark for even the chest hairs to hide. She felt out each bone, starting from the top beneath his collar bone, working around to his armpit, then down. When she came to the middle ribs, he gasped. When one rib gave ever so slightly, he yelped a broken cry; body curving away from the pain, one hand lifted in a fist as though desperate for something to hang on to.

There was no exact treatment for broken ribs, not like with a cut or broken arm. No covering them or immobilizing them, only bandaging them to keep them in place as much as possible. She used the field dressing from Sheppard's vest pocket to wrap his flanks. During the process, he kept his head turned toward his shoulder and his gaze on a sulking McKay hunched against a rock.

Teyla let her own eyes flicker to and from who John was looking at.

"He does not doubt you," she said with all certainty, despite the situation and McKay's tirade. Rodney's trust in Sheppard was absolute, manifested more in actions than words, or he would not have crossed that ice-bridge. "It is the situation he does not trust, not you. He is merely frightened."

John's head bobbed in agreement. "I know." He smiled, lopsided and amused though without its usual strength. "After four years, there's not much left of McKay to figure out. Still..." he sighed quietly, a gentle yet shuddery exhale. "He could be right. We might have been better off if we'd stayed with the 'jumper."

The admission seemed to drain him until it was no longer just his hands that were shaking. Teyla could see fine muscle tremors vibrating the skin of his shoulders and around his ribcage. There were lines of exhaustion joining the lines of pain, making him years older than he was. Looking at him made her weary, reminding her of days and nights in council with her people, debates that found no resolve, and decisions – her decisions – picked apart like an insect in a curious and careless child's hands.

There had always been so much doubt, even when the consequences were few or when necessity allowed for no options. The decisions she had made her first month of leadership she still questioned to this day. Thrust into the role, a child forced to grow up and make life or death situations. Charrin had said, when Teyla had wept over the unfairness of it all, "So goes the ways of leadership. You do it because it must be done, not because you want to."

Teyla reached out, covering John's hand with her own. "I believe that, either way, it does not matter. We would have fought to live. That is all the certainty we need." She then tugged his shirt down, and his second shirt, jacket, and vest back up.

When she finished by zipping the vest, John took her swollen wrist and looked it over, prodding gently yet still causing her to hiss when a tender spot was touched. He wrapped it for her, making the last of the bandages from his vest comfortably tight.

He then checked his watch when he was done. "Been more than five minutes. We need to go, find a way out of this place."

Sheppard roused Ronon as Teyla handled McKay, checking his arm and adjusting the sling without him saying a single word except for the occasional yelp. She could tell by the flicker in his eyes and the thrust of his jaw that trepidation overshadowed anger in his mind. John was not the only one to have grown accustomed to the nuances of Rodney McKay.

By the time she had Rodney on his feet, Sheppard and Ronon joined them with Ronon moving more surely, albeit swaying like a branch in the wind. All that mattered was that he no longer needed to lean up against anyone.

Sheppard took the lead, back curved and shoulders hunched more tightly than before. The cavern was a forest of rock-spikes interrupted by bubbling pools hissing steam and foul air. Mud-puddles boiled and popped like a stew made from spoiled eggs. Sulfur was what Rodney had once called that smell, and it was making her queasy.

It was also making Ronon green, and once again they were forced to stop when he started retching.

The cave stretched long until ending at a sheer wall split down the middle. The narrow passage forced them to move single file and sideways in order to fit, Teyla adjusting the pack against her flank, and McKay doing the same. Darkness swallowed them on entering, the lichens left behind, the P-90's beam their only light.

A shift of mere inches, backward or forward, scraped Teyla's back then chest. She reached out without thinking, groping the darkness until touching warm material covering soft flesh. She could feel that flesh shivering, hear the rapid, stuttering breathing of McKay trying not to panic.

Teyla squeezed his shoulder in silent reassurance.

"Stupid," Rodney breathed, barely a squeak of sound. "Stupid. We should have stayed... should have... Oh, gosh..."

Teyla squeezed again, and whispered, "It is all right. It will be all right." Then the passage narrowed until it was impossible to avoid being scraped. The vest may have provided protection, but was also a hindrance. Rodney's hitching breaths became whimpering gasps.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid...I want out, I want out, I want out..." His fear seemed to bleed into her hand, up through her arm and into her heart until it was thrashing. She could feel the darkness: all around her, above her, below her, pressing and crushing as it swallowed her whole. She could taste it cold and bitter on her tongue, hear it like a single breath louder than the lesser, fragile breathing around her.

She wanted out. By the Ancestors, she wanted out now!

And then the tunnel widened as though spitting them out. Teyla gasped, and Rodney gasped with her. Even with the dark still so thick, she had never felt more free. She focused on the circle of light skimming over the floor and walls, and followed it.

"Rodney?" She whispered. "Are you all right?" She had released his shoulder on stepping through the tunnel, and could not see him.

"Fine," came the strained reply. Teyla could suddenly feel him as an aura of warmth against her side in the now-chilled air. "We should have stayed in the 'jumper."

Despite understanding his fear, his stress, it did not stop irritation from flushing hot in her face. "Are you so sure?" She was weary of his doubting, his dwelling on what could not be changed and continually voicing it.

Rodney did not reply, and in the dark, Teyla could not see which expression he wore that would tell her what his silence meant.

With their breathing steadier, Teyla heard a new sound. No, not new, just different – a rhythmic wheeze, like labored breathing, several steps ahead. Frustrated as she was, she could not help but wonder what difference might have been made if they had stayed behind, whether or not they would have been better off. She tried hard not to think on it. It was inevitable thinking, here in the darkness, but it felt so much like doubt and now was not the time to doubt. It was far too late for doubt, and the last thing John needed on top of everything else.

By the mild pull at her back and straining of her legs, Teyla knew they were heading upward. She turned her face in the direction of an arctic waft of air puffing like a breath against her cheek. Minutes passed, or maybe hours, she could not tell. There was no time, only direction, and the only direction was up. But at least there was room to move without getting scraped by rock.

More minutes, or hours, passed and the darkness tried once again to swallow them. Only to be driven back by faint gray far ahead. Teyla stiffened, heart pounding in swiftly rising hope.

It was trampled by faint whispers and a cold caress in her mind, both intimate and terrifying. Her spine locked, her steps slowed and her heart pounded fiercely.

"Wraith," she breathed.

The crunch and scrape of footfalls ceased.

"Close?" John rasped, then coughed.

Teyla shook her head though she knew he could not see it. "Close but... stationary." She had long ago honed her skills until not only could she sense wraith and how many, she could also sense whether they were far or near and coming nearer.

The scrape and crunch of footfalls resumed, slower and softly audible. The light increased, growing from gray, to gray white, to blinding white where the cave ended at a wide opening. Teyla saw Sheppard press against the wall and his hand-signal for the others to do the same. They crept, heel to toe without a sound, toward the entrance.

Sporadic gusts of wind dusted the floor with snow and bit their skin with ice. Sheppard held up his hand for the others to stop before he slipped the last few inches to the entrance, stretching his neck around the wall, then down. He ducked back in, waving his team over.

"Guess we can safely assume this planet a future outpost," he said, pointing down.

The cave was far above ground, perhaps twenty feet or less and a sheer drop. Below them milled wraith, dozens of them, more than dozens, five commanders and many drones. They were gathered against the rock wall, some sitting, some standing, all facing a wide open field of perfect white.

"The welcoming committee," John said. He tilted his chin to the left and a ship half-hidden beneath snow. "I can see their scout ship. Huh, they must really like this place to have that many getting things prepped." Of course, this was the first time they had come to a world in the throes of becoming an outpost.

They backed into the cave, still within the light but out of sight of the wraith. John released a long breath in a stream of steam. It ended on a harsh cough he partially stifled with his hand, doubling as he rode out the pain it caused.

"We're safe here," he choked. He looked at his watch on his trembling wrist, and smiled. "Looks like our hour's been up for twenty minutes. Atlantis probably checked in by now, which means Carter's getting worried and ordering another team through the 'gate."

"Oh, th-thank goodness," Rodney breathed.

Sheppard moved over to him to give him a thump on his good shoulder. "See? We're still alive. That's what matters, right?"

McKay, shivering, snorted. "I'll g-give into y-your sunny d-disposition once we're o-on th-the other s-side of the g-gate."

John shook his head in response, wandering back to the opening while rubbing his arms briskly. In the light, he looked more pale, his skin glowing with moisture the cold air couldn't dry, and his eyes red-rimmed and shadowed. Even with the gusty winds roaring against Teyla's ears, she could still hear the wheeze in his breathing.

"He doesn't look to good."

Teyla started at Rodney's voice in her ear.

"N-no he does not," she said through chattering teeth. She studied Rodney out of the corner of her eye, specifically the hesitant worry on his face. A worry equally divided between Sheppard leaning heavily against the cave wall and Ronon huddled on the floor with his head in his hands.

"Do you think we should have stayed in the 'jumper?" he asked suddenly, looking directly at her, doubtful and confused. He had finally reached the point where it was no longer a matter of who was right and who was wrong. She could see it in eyes and his vulnerable expression. He honestly wished to know, needing some kind of certainty, any certainty, because there were so few certainties left.

Teyla lifted her chin. "As Colonel Sheppard said, we are alive. That is what matters."

Perhaps not a satisfying answer, but an acceptable one according to Rodney's resigned and weary silence.

After a moment of that silence, McKay asked, "Do you think rescue will be here soon?"

Teyla could only shrug in answer.

John's head lifted abruptly like a tense animal hearing a twig snap. He leaned forward just enough to peer over the edge of the floor.

"Son of a bitch!" he spat, bringing his P-90 up. "We're about to have company!"

Teyla unclipped her own gun as she trotted up beside Sheppard. A drone was scuttling up to them, maybe seeking shelter, maybe having spotted movement. "We should head back into the caves -"

"No time," he said, and fired when a pale-blue hand snaked over the ledge. Bullets pounded the covered face until the wraith fell, pulling the attention of the other wraith to their position.

Teyla's eyes rounded over. Drone after drone leaped onto the wall in a scurrying climb at speeds that did not seem possible, like Sheppard when he had been changing into the creature, taking to the glass walls to escape.

"Aim for their heads!" Sheppard shouted, and fired. Teyla and Rodney fired with him, bullets slamming into masked heads. Two drones dropped only to roll over and stagger back to their feet. Another drone reached the edge to start pulling itself over. Teyla kicked out, slamming her boot into its face, then firing until it dropped.

John shot at the wall spraying rock-shards and dislodging several wraiths' grips. It bought them needed seconds when Sheppard's gun clicked empty. He pulled out his nine-mil while tossing the empty weapon to Rodney.

"Reload!"

Rodney had to drop his own hand-gun to catch it one-handed. "Reload? You know I suck at reloading!"

John fired non-stop. "McKay!" Then kicked at another wraith trying to haul itself over the edge.

"Fine!" Rodney barked, grabbing a pack and scurrying deeper into the cave to be out of the way.

Teyla gritted her teeth against the agony of holding the weapon steady with her injured hand. Two more wraith went down, only to climb back to their feet and rescale the wall. She saw Sheppard out of the corner of her eye jam his hand-gun into its holster then hurry over to Ronon trying to get to his feet. John grabbed the Satedan's blaster and whipped around just as another wraith was half-way over the lip. A single blast blowing the top of its head off sent it flipping backward into open air.

A clammy hand grabbed Teyla's ankle and pulled, flipping her in a hard landing onto her back that knocked the breath from her lungs. She recovered in time to kick the masked face peeking over the rim. The head snapped back, only to snap forward, and the wraith started pulling her toward it.

A ball of crackling red knocked its mask and part of its skull off in a shower of bone-shards and black blood. The wraith groaned once before toppling away. Teyla scrabbled back to her feet and aimed.

Too late. Wraith were already getting to their feet while others were pulling themselves in.

"Rodney!" John bellowed, backing away as he fired. "I could really use that P-90 right about now!"

"I'm trying. The damn thing won't go in!"

Sheppard blasted a burning hole in a drone's chest. "Then you're doing it wrong!" He blasted a second hole into a wraith's shoulder.

Teyla fired ceaselessly into the chest armor of a bleeding drone. The weapon clicked empty at the same time the drone launched forward. Teyla struck out with the butt of the weapon into the masked skull; left then right, driving it back to the edge for a kick that sent it toppling over. She whirled around at movement in her peripheral, striking out again only for the wraith to back-hand her. She reeled, stumbling into the wall, slamming her foot into the wraith's stomach. It staggered back giving Teyla room to swing the weapon.

The wraith caught it and yanked it from her grip at the same time its feeding hand made for her chest. Suddenly, it convulsed in the sharp patter of a P-90 and an endless barrage of bullets that finally drove it over the edge. Teyla turned her head to see Ronon lurching forward, roaring in agony over the concussive thunder of the weapon as it drove more wraith back.

Smiling, Teyla darted forward, snatching the 9-mil Rodney had been forced to drop while pulling her own from its holster. To shots distracted a wraith long enough for her to swing her foot out in a wide arc into its head. Another wraith coming toward her jerked and convulsed to a stop. Rodney, firing the extra hand-gun Teyla had thought to pack, rushed forward screaming a broken cry of defiance and terror...

... right within striking range of a wraith that had managed to get back to its feet. It lashed out with a back-hand into Rodney's shoulder that shoved him to the ground, hard, on his broken arm. He screamed, rolling onto his back to cradle his limb.

"McKay!" Sheppard called, blasting one wraith over the edge before swinging around and blasting the wraith advancing on Rodney. He bolted forward when the way was clear to grab Rodney by the vest and haul him back, Teyla providing cover fire when a wraith tried to get to its feet.

"Son of a bitch it hurts!" Rodney wailed with eyes clenched shut. "Crap, oh crap, oh cra-a-a-a-ap!"

"Here," John said. Teyla saw him switch settings on the blaster and aim for the stun to skim Rodney's arm.

McKay yelped, "Sheppard!" But he didn't so much as flinch or wince when John pulled him to his feet.

The wraith kept coming, too many to count and all well fed by how many shots it was taking to keep them down. Many of them dropped without going over the edge, pushing themselves back to their feet within seconds. Teyla felt like those men in the earth movies called westerns as she fired two weapons at once. When one clicked empty, she shoved it back into her holster to continue firing with the second. Sheppard blasted wraith one at a time with Ronon's weapon, and Ronon shot as many wraith as he could with John's weapon. Rodney fired at whatever came too close.

Teyla turned when she saw movement to witness a wraith plow into John and slam him into the wall. Sheppard screamed, gutteral and helpless, the weapon dropping to the floor. The wraith spun him around, its feeding hand raised and starting to drop.

Teyla ran toward it, firing bullet after bullet into its back while hoping that none managed to rip straight through into John. The impacts distracted it long enough for her to reach it, grabbing it by its long coat and shoving it to the side. She then lashed out with her foot, pivoting on her heel for a kick with her other foot until the thing staggered over the precipice.

Crackling in her ear made her jolt.

"_Colonel Sheppard, Teyla, Ronon, Dr. McKay. This is Major Lorne. Do you copy? I repeat, this is Major Lorne. Do you copy?"_

Teyla wanted to weep and laugh. She stabbed the com at her ear, slamming her boot into another wraith that had reached the top. "Major! It is Teyla. We read you and we are in need of assistance." She leaped back from a groping hand. "Now!"

"_Teyla, we read you. We have your position on the HUD and are heading toward you now. ETA two minutes. Just hang on a little longer."_

Teyla shot the wraith's skull peeking over the lip. "Please, hurry!" She backed up until she was next to Sheppard crumpled on the floor and hugging his ribs. She switched the nine-mil for the blaster, placing the smaller gun into Sheppard's hand. Her free hand she placed on his arm, orienting herself and reassuring him. He was rocking in pain, his neck corded and jaw clenched with it, his breathing rapid and far too shallow.

"Help is coming, Colonel," she said, and blasted a charred hole in a wraith's head.

"_Teyla? It's Lorne. Make that one minute. And I'm assuming you're the reason wraith are climbing that wall like ants."_

Teyla fired at another wraith. "Yes, Major!"

"_Then you may want to stand way back and cover your ears."_

Teyla's eyes popped wide. "Rodney, get Ronon away from the entrance!" She saw Rodney yank Ronon backwards by his coat before she twisted around to shield Sheppard with her body.

The explosion came seconds after, like a roar directly in her ears, dragging behind it a wave of heat and compressed air that rocked the cave and rattled her bones, stinging her skin with ice and rocks. It felt like forever before the wave passed over her, taking the noise with it. A second, more distant explosion followed after, muffled by her clogged ears.

It would have been completely silent except for the high-pitch whine in her skull.

"_Teyla! You guys all right!"_

Teyla reached up with a trembling hand to her com. "Yes," she croaked, swallowing for her ears to pop and clear. "Yes, we are fine."

"_Good. Looks like that blast handled the wraith, assuming some aren't just unconscious. We're coming in."_

Teyla lifted her head away from John to watch the 'jumper's bulk eclipse the cave entrance. She would have wept had she the energy. Instead, she sagged, squeezing John's arm.

"Rescue is here, Colonel. We have made it."

A shaking, weak hand gripped her arm in return. She looked down at John smiling weakly up at her even as he struggled to breathe.

-----------------------------------

Telya helped settle John on a stretcher, then followed it into the 'jumper hovering perfectly outside the cave opening. Ronon and McKay followed after, Ronon carefully lowered into a seat with Rodney taking the other end, out of the way. John was set onto the floor, an oxygen mask slipped over his face, his vest, jacket and shirt opened for his under-shirt to be lifted. Teyla sat as close as possible, where she could watch.

John's ribcage did an odd thing. When it expanded, the middle-most rib would go down. When it deflated, the same rib would go up.

The medic cursed sharply. "Damn it! Looks like we've got flail chest." He listened to each side of John's flank. "Congestion. Breaths sounds on each side, though, so nothing's been punctured. Let's hope it stays that way." He looked up at Teyla. "He's lucky. A rib that broken could have easily punctured his lung."

Teyla could only nod. She looked away from John, just for a moment, to check on her other two teammates: Ronon who was suffering a light being flashed into his eyes while a marine held his arms down, just in case of reaction. Rodney, his arm out of the sling and the sleeve completely cut away. The skin over the break bulged, but the affects of the stunner were still strong, or pain medications had been administered, because Rodney only winced as the third medic prodded.

"Teyla, how are you feeling?" the medic attending John asked.

She smiled tiredly. "Very weary, and... achy."

He smiled back in understanding, then shifted position to be in front of her and assess her wounds now that John was settled, an I.V. in his arm and his body strapped down to decrease the threat of a punctured lung. It was all that could be done for now.

"Looks like we're getting out of here just in time," Lorne said from the pilot's seat. They had left the planet, the activated stargate obscured by the activated HUD. "A hive ship just arrived."

They slipped through the gate, entering the safety of Atlantis where a med-team awaited to transfer them all to the infirmary. Once arrived, they were separated behind curtains and changed into scrubs for easier access to their injuries. Teyla's own ribs were felt, her body scanned, her lungs listened to. There were hairline cracks in two ribs of her chest, and another, larger crack in her wrist that would require a cast. For now, it was placed into a splint.

Teyla was the first to be settled with an I.V. of pain medication and antibiotics against possible infection from all the cuts. She felt blessedly warm, but would feel comfortable only when she knew the condition of the rest of her team.

Ronon was settled next, asleep. A concussion, the nurse said, which meant having to wake him every two hours. None of the nurses were happy about it.

It was when a meal was brought to Teyla that Rodney was wheeled in on her other side, unconscious with a cast on his arm. He'd had to be heavily medicated for them to realign the bone.

Sheppard was last, hooked to a ventilator. Dr. Keller assured that it was temporary, and that they were only playing it safe. It wasn't that Sheppard needed it, just that it would help. Only then, with the needed assurances, did she allow herself to drift off to sleep.

She awoke to Rodney sitting partially upright against the raised head of the bed, staring straight ahead with heavy-lidded eyes.

Teyla pushed herself upright, yawning and stretching as much as her body would let her.

"I've been thinking about it."

Rubbing her face, Teyla looked at McKay.

"I think Sheppard may have been right," he said. "I don't think we would have survived long in the 'jumper. Not with that many wraith around. Definitely not in that small a space." His head rolled limply in the Colonel's direction. There would be apologies, maybe. Perhaps in words, perhaps in the form of letting John play coveted and rare video games, or allowing him free choice of candy from hidden stashes.

Teyla suspected words, because John had also doubted. And when he doubted, he felt guilt, thinking himself the reason for what nearly happened to his team. Rodney would assure him, though: awkwardly, testily, but with all sincerity. It had yet to happen any differently as far as Teyla knew.

---------------------------------------

Teyla was the first to be released. Absolutely pointless considering how often she visited. Even the nurses joked with her that she might as well move back in, and did not try to chase her off whenever she fell asleep in an available bed.

Rodney was next, and just as bad as she was. Worse, actually, since he never really slept much and made demands of the nurses. Him they did try to chase off.

Ronon was released a day later after McKay, just as tolerant a visitor as Teyla though he did have a way of intimidating the nurses (mostly the female nurses, and mostly due to an infatuation Ronon had yet to notice).

It was not long before Sheppard was off the ventilator and his lung infection showing signs of clearing up. There was a little more color to his skin, making the bruises less grotesquely vivid. He awoke, sometimes, just never with enough awareness to acknowledge anyone. Keller woke him often, needing him back in the land of the conscious in order to get food into him. He had not eaten since they had left on their mission, and that had now been a week ago.

His state of consciousness never mattered. The team would wait. They always did, being the least they could do.

----------------------------

Teyla watched, hopeful but not holding out to it, as John's eyes slid beneath the lids. He dreamed often, and sometimes those dreams woke him, disoriented and frightened. A few words and a rub on the arm had him back to sleep within seconds.

Today, his eyelids slid open instead of popped: a mere sliver of space with just enough light shining on them for Teyla to catch a hint of hazel. She stiffened, a smile spreading on her face. Gripping his I.V.-free hand, she massaged his fingers as a gentle coax. He blinked sluggishly and turned his head to her.

John's mouth moved, barely managing a whisper.

"Teyla."

The breath rushed from her lungs. "John."

The muscles of his brow bunched in confusion and consternation. "Where...?"

"We are in the infirmary, John. We are home."

His eyes closed, his features tightening. "N-no. No. Where... where... is... Rodney? Ronon?"

Teyla started in alarm. "Oh! They are at dinner. Finishing up when I left. They will be here soon."

"They okay?"

She smiled. "They are fine. We are all fine." And, as if to prove her point, Ronon and Rodney finally arrived, Rodney's complaint about the cooks' sadism for choosing lemon desserts above everything else preceding him.

There was a shift in John's face, and not just his expression. He smiled weakly, small but genuine, erasing lines of stress and pain until he was years younger. It was a relief of the kind that melted down to the bones, smothering all indecisions, uncertainties and "if-onlys" until all that was left was the here and now of them alive and well.

Which was all that ever mattered.

The End

A/N: Wow, that was long! I actually didn't intend it to be, but I am a mere slave and the story my master, so had no choice but to bow to its whims. The wraith being able to scurry up walls at inhuman speeds is a personal assumption I made based on, of course, "Conversion" as well as them being Iratus bug descendants. I'm not saying they're always scurrying about walls like insects, but I assumed uneven rock walls would be fairly easy for them to climb, especially if they had very strong claws. It was an assumption I went with for the sake of the story. Same with the intricacies of Teyla's ability to sense wraith.

Also, broken ribs being my favorite form of whump, I actually researched it this time. But it was a quick research, so apologies for any inconsistencies.


End file.
